


Guess Again

by redreaper86



Series: Guess [3]
Category: The Batman (Movie 2021)
Genre: 2022 Riddlebird, Arguing, Body Positivity, Colin Farrell Penguin, Ed has a duct tape fetish, Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, Jealousy, Light Bondage, M/M, Mild Gore, Paul Dano Riddler, Post-Coital Cuddling, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26966335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redreaper86/pseuds/redreaper86
Summary: The Penguin and the Riddler, Gotham's newest power couple, are hitting some snags in their fledgling relationship, stemming mainly from the fact that one is a crime boss and the other is a serial killer.Can Edward stop murdering every prospective business partner that so much as looks at Oswald the wrong way?Can Oswald be patient enough with Edward's homicidal tantrums to uncover what's really bothering him?Guess...again.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Series: Guess [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941793
Comments: 42
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

The headlights, taillights and traffic lights of Gotham City at night, gleaming various jewel-tones of white, red, yellow and green, all blurred together through the melted snow on the Penguin's windshield. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, Oswald glanced over at Edward huddled in the front passenger seat, his head leaning against the window. The younger man's long eyelashes were soaked with tears and his slight body still shook with the after-effects of crying.

It broke Oswald's heart to see him like this. "Look," he said gently, breaking the nearly hour-long silence they'd both stewed in since driving away from the bloody scene in the alley behind the Iceberg Lounge. "I didn't mean what I said back there."

Edward sniffled and curled closer to the window. "Which part? The part that you're sorry you ever met me, or that it was never going to work out between us because I'm a, quote: 'clingy, jealous, murderous psychopath?'"

Oswald winced at the harshness of his own words repeated back to him. "I shouldn't have said that. But," his tone sharpened, "you shouldn't have done what you did. For fuck's sake, Ed, that's the third one this month! Why do you keep killing all my prospective business partners?"

Edward gave a tiny petulant shrug.

Oswald scoffed and faced the road again, sorely tempted to put his hazards on, pull over to the curb, drag Edward across his lap and administrate a sound spanking to the younger man's narrow backside. Instead he said: "Answer me, Edward!" in so sharp a tone that it basically had the exact same effect as any corporal chastisement would have done.

Edward flinched. "I didn't like the way they..."

"What, the way they 'what?'" Oswald snapped, impatience taking over. Those three victims may have been scumbags, but they certainly didn't deserve the level of brutality that Ed had bestowed upon them.

"The way they _touched_ you!" Edward snarled finally. "It was _disgusting_."

"What are you talking about, 'touched me,' all they did was shake my hand!"

"They held on too fucking long -- making fucking _comments_ \-- but that one tonight was the worst of them!" Edward's whole body was shaking now, this time with rage, and Oswald was reminded yet again of what this innocent-looking young thing was capable of. "He kept...he kept -- _fuck_!" Edward couldn't get the words out for the sobs of fury that were clawing their way out of his throat.

Putting his hazards on, Oswald pulled over on the shoulder of the highway, racking his brain as he did for what the other crime boss had done to set Edward off so. A couple of handshakes, a few macho claps on the back, some jokes about Oswald’s weight...quite a lot of jokes, actually, along with various teasing pats and prods to his stomach --

 _Oh_.

 _Shit_.

"No one should ever treat you like he treated you -- like any of them did," Edward went on in a miserable little watery voice. "Disrespecting you, belittling you. I thought you would be happy I killed them for you."

"Edward..." Oswald sighed, half exasperated, half besotted. "You can't go around killing everyone who mocks me. You'll decrease Gotham's population by half."

"I don't care," Edward rubbed his tear-streaked cheeks with the insides of his wrists. "I'd kill everyone on earth if it meant I could have you all to myself."

Oswald laughed at the younger man's ardour.

"I would!" Edward protested, just like a child insists that if he builds a tall enough tower he can touch the sky.

"Of course you would. Come here, you," Oswald held out his arms and Edward scrambled to get into them, accidentally elbowing the horn in his haste. Oswald gave a comical groan as Edward plopped himself into his lap.

"My big baby," he teased, wrapping his arms around said 'baby' as the latter all but melted into him. "What am I going to do with you, huh?" He tweaked Edward's side eliciting a giggly whine. "Any bright ideas?"

Edward had plenty of ideas as to what Oswald could do with him, all of them bright, none of them appropriate to be springing on the older man when he was still technically in the doghouse.

"You can do anything you like with me," Edward murmured into the crook of Oswald's neck. "Just don't leave me alone."

"Never, baby," Oswald promised him. "I promise to _lavish_ attention on you. You like attention, right?"

Oswald's tone was deceptively syrupy-sweet and Edward's insides went all aflutter as though he'd gorged himself on a swarm of demented butterflies.

"Well, you're in for my attention tonight," Oswald drawled and Edward's skin erupted in goosebumps despite the heaters going at full blast in the car. "Maybe some attention you won't much like. What do you think of that?"

Edward's breathing came quicker as he felt Oswald's hands slide around his waist. "I think..." he began.

"What, baby?"

"I think we should hurry up and get home then."


	2. Chapter 2

Oswald hadn't been kidding when he'd said Edward was in for his attention when they got home. No sooner had Oswald closed and locked the front door behind them when he slammed Edward front-first against the wall in the landing, twisting his arm behind his back.

"Why did you kill those guys, Edward?"

Edward's stomach dropped. He'd thought he'd gotten out of that one. "I...I already told you --"

"Because they disrespected me and you were just defending my honour," Oswald sneered. "Right?"

"Yes!"

Oswald's mouth nearly touched Edward's ear. " _Liar_ ," he whispered, his tone teasing. "You of all people should know what happens to _liars_ , baby."

Before Edward could conjure the breath to respond, Oswald had yanked him away from the wall, frogmarched him into the parlour and flung him face-first onto the bearskin rug on the floor. Edward made to get up when he felt a firm weight on his lower back: Oswald's knee pinning him in place.

Then came the unmistakable _skriiiiiiick!_ sound that had haunted Edward's nightmares as well as his fantasies. Terror drained the blood from his face, arousal directed it straight to his groin.

Edward's breathing quickened to the point of hyperventilation as his arms were pulled behind his back and the sticky silver ribbon he loved so much was wrapped round and round his wrists. He whimpered as tears scalded the backs of his eyes.

"Just breathe, Edward," Oswald whispered tenderly into his quarry's ear. "I'm not going to leave you alone."

Relief poured through Edward's veins. "Thank you," he gasped.

"You're welcome." Another _skrick_ sound, shorter this time. "Now close your mouth."

Edward did and Oswald instantly sealed it closed with a piece of duct tape. The weight lifted off Edward's back and he could hear the floorboards protest as Oswald crossed the room, the wooden rattling sound of a drawer opening and closing, more creaking footsteps as Oswald returned to him. Edward felt his upper arms gripped as he was lifted to a kneeling position.

Oswald took hold of his chin and tilted his face up to him. "See this?" He held a little yellow rubber duck in front of Edward's eyes, evidently the object he had retrieved from the drawer. "If at any point you really need me to stop, just squeeze this and I will."

Oswald placed the rubber ducky in Edward's bound hands. The younger man cradled it loosely in his crooked fingers, careful not to squeeze it prematurely. That would end his punishment before it even began, and Edward desperately wanted Oswald to 'lavish attention' on him. Even if that attention was pain and humiliation.

"Do you know why I'm doing this to you, Edward?"

Edward nodded vigorously. _Because I killed those guys_.

"It isn't because you killed those guys."

Edward huffed in frustration at getting the answer wrong.

"It's because you did it without asking my permission, without even letting me know. Do you think I was planning on letting those guys get away with treating me like that?" Oswald shook his head, exuding disappointment. "Maybe I would've liked to kill them myself or watch you kill them."

Edward hung his head, mourning the lost intimacy he could've shared with Oswald, torturing and killing an enemy together. He hadn't realized it at the time, but he'd robbed Oswald of his own revenge -- something Edward wouldn't have stood for if the wronged party had been himself. The knowledge of what he'd lost and might not ever get the chance at again hurt worse than any beating would've done.

He tried to say 'I'm sorry' but the duct tape gag transformed his apology into a pathetic mewl.

"I forgive you, baby." Oswald cupped the side of Edward's face. "Now it's time for your punishment."

Edward's eyes went huge. He'd thought --

"No, it's not over yet," Oswald laughed, guessing exactly what Edward had thought. "You need to be taught a lesson you won't soon forget. So it doesn't happen again, you see."

Edward watched Oswald, waiting for the older man to take off his belt and beat him with the buckled end. But Oswald just sat down on the couch and patted his ample lap. Edward slowly rose to his feet, unsure of what Oswald wanted him to do. He needn't have worried. As soon as he was within grabbing distance, Oswald snatched Edward by the front of his shirt and pulled him over his lap.

Edward didn't clue in to what was about to happen to him until the first swat made stinging contact with his green-clad behind. He let out a muffled squawk and flailed his body in an attempt to get away, but it was nothing doing -- Oswald held him fast. The blows came inexorably then, as did more pleasurable things, and all of Ed's pleas for mercy, screams of frustration and moans of pleasure were mangled, trapped by the duct tape over his mouth.

But never once did he squeeze his rubber ducky.


	3. Chapter 3

"Edward, knock it off."

Oswald lay on his back on the bearskin rug, his head propped up on one of the disheveled couch cushions before the roaring fireplace. He was (for him) half-dressed, wearing his suit trousers and an undershirt, the latter of which was serving no purpose at all as Edward had shoved it up and was amusing himself by suctioning his rubber ducky to Oswald's bare belly. As soon as the adherence would wear off, Edward would lick a new spot on Oswald's stomach and stick his rubber ducky there again.

"Seriously," Oswald grinned in spite of himself when Edward reapplied the bath toy to Oswald's gut for the twenty-second time in a row. "What are you, two?"

"Yes," Edward replied, grinning. Unlike Oswald, he was only wearing boxers. 

"That's way too young for me," Oswald said and made to shove Ed off of him.

"Thirty-four, I'm thirty-four!" Edward squealed.

"Then act like it," Oswald groaned, trying to pull his undershirt down only for Ed to hike it up even higher. " _Edward_! There is a reason overweight middle-aged gangsters like me wear undershirts all the time."

"And what reason is that?"

"Because no one wants to see an unsightly potbelly."

" _I_ want to see _yours_ ," Edward ran his delicate fingernails all over Oswald's vast stomach causing the older man to attempt (and promptly fail) at sucking it in. "I love this big sexy tummy of yours."

Oswald blushed so hard his face hurt. No one -- _no one_ \-- had ever mentioned his size in a remotely positive way before let alone outright praised it. "Why?" he asked, genuinely wanting to know the reason.

"It's part of your aesthetic as the notorious and powerful Penguin," Edward explained "Cute and cuddly on the outside," he danced his fingers up Oswald's belly to his chest where he laid his hand over his heart. "Cold and calculating on the inside. And mine. All mine."

Oswald tucked some of Edward's longish hair behind his ear. "Were you jealous of that man you killed tonight, baby? Of the others?"

Edward dropped his eyes. "They...mocked your hands," he caught one of them up and kissed it. "They made fun of the way you walk, the way you laugh. That one tonight kept touching your stomach and -- _saying_ things. And you let him. Oz, why did you let him?"

"Honestly?" Oswald gave a short self-depreciating laugh. " I suppose I was so used to it I didn't even realize it was happening. Until you. You did good killing those scumbags, Ed. You might not have gone about it the right way, but...in the end? They got what they fucking deserved."

Edward laid his head on Oswald's chest. "I just wish you could've killed them with me. You deserve vengeance."

Oswald was quiet a moment, just stroking Ed's back gently. "There might be a way. Mario Falcone is going to meet with me at the club tomorrow. He is worse than all three of the men you killed put together, especially with his father gone and him the don now. He'll definitely try to insult me to try to make himself feel like a big shot. Then we can teach him a lesson in manners he won't soon forget."

"And no one will ever dare to cross you again."

" _Us_ , Edward. No one will dare to cross _us_ again."

With an effort Oswald hoisted himself -- and Edward -- off of the floor and made the arduous trek to the bedroom. The last thing the Penguin needed was a sore back when facing Falcone tomorrow.

After he finished his nightcare, Oswald made his way as quietly as he could across the noisy floorboards to the bed so as not to wake Edward, who was fast asleep on his side, still clutching his rubber ducky.

Oswald bit his lip at the adorable sight, feeling his eyes sting a little. Carefully, carefully, he slipped under the covers...only for Edward to moan and nestle closer to him.

"Hey, Oswald?"

"Mm."

"Do you think this duck would be a good design for a car?"

"Go to sleep, Ed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Vincent Piazza as Mario Falcone

As Oswald led him by the hand through the partying club-goers of the Iceburg Lounge, Edward wondered if he would ever get used to the glamour and debauchery of life as the Penguin's partner. Even the emerald suit Edward now wore felt strange to him the way it showed off his slender figure, rather than conceal it as his old army fatigues had done. (Oswald had burned those as soon as he'd gotten Ed out of them.) But instead of fearing the exoticism of his new life, he revelled in it as he did in the perfect answer to a riddle.

Plus, he loved the way the new clothes caused Oswald to not be able to take his eyes (or his hands) off Edward for more than a few seconds. _Three...two...one_ \--

He grinned as he felt Oswald's arm loop around his waist and pull him onto his knee as the Penguin took his seat at the VIP table on a dais overlooking the dance floor.

" _Ozzie_ , whatever has gotten into you tonight?" Edward murmured teasingly in his bird's ear. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"I just realized this is my club and you're my fiancé and I'm done hiding who I am to try to impress anyone." Oswald looked across the dance floor to the entrance of the club where a well-dressed dark-haired man had just entered with several huge goons. "Especially not that snot-nosed Falcone brat."

Edward narrowed his eyes at the dark-haired man -- Mario Falcone -- who had just caught sight of them, smirked, straightened his lapels and crossed the floor to the dais, his surrounding goons elbowing the dancers out of thier way. Edward saw Oswald's face darken at the blatant lack of respect Falcone was showing the club. He reached his hand into Oswald's coat pocket where his two favourite weapons -- a switchblade and a roll of duct tape -- resided. Edward didn’t have any pockets big enough to accommodate those things anymore.

Falcone bounded up the steps to the dais, looking immensely pleased with himself, his goons crowding behind him.

"Send your men away," Oswald said. "Or this meeting is over before it even starts."

Falcone sneered, turned around dramatically to his men and said, "Hey fellas...go wait in the car. This shouldn't take too long -- if you know what I mean." He snickered.

The brutes stalked away, being just as abusive to the dancers on the way out as they had on the way in.

Edward saw Oswald's fists clench but other than that the Penguin showed nothing but politeness and cordiality.

 _Cute and cuddly on the outside_ , Edward thought, doing his best not to beam with pride. _Cold and calculating on the inside_.

"You should teach your men some manners," Oswald said pleasantly. "Preferably with a chainsaw."

Falcone's dark eyes flicked up to Oswald in surprise. Edward knew that look. He'd seen it many times before. It was the exact look of a bully unprepared for their victim to stand up for themselves. He'd seen it on the face of his own father -- right before he'd cut that face off, that is. Falcone’s friendly facade fell away like the mask it was. He curled his lip and leaned forward:

"Look, you fat fuck, I'm only here outta respect for my father, God rest him. And just because he's gone dosen't mean I'm here to, whata-ya-call, bend the knee or anything. I'm head of the family now and the Falcones still own Gotham City."

"I'm sorry for what happened to your father," Oswald said softly. "He was a proud man. It was a shame the way he died: soiling himself and screaming for his mother."

Falcone’s face turned an angry red. "Where the fuck did you hear that?"

Edward felt an almost imperceptible poke in his side -- Oswald's signal to him that it was Ed's turn to mess with Falcone now. "An extremely reliable source," Edward said, smiling. " _Moi_."

Falcone blinked stupidly at him, and in the half-minute it took for him to realize what this fey green-clad creature had just implied --

\-- Ed had launched himself out of Oswald's lap, across the table and into Falcone’s lap so quickly and efficiently that hardly anyone around even batted an eye. The ones that did simply thought that the Penguin was 'sharing' his moll with another gangster. They didn't see the blade of Edward's knife gently teasing Falcone’s jugular vein.

"Jesus, fuck!" Falcone whispered.

"That's exactly what I said when I first met him," Oswald chirped. "Isn't that funny?"

"Yeah, real fuckin' hysterical," Falcone babbled, still trying to act the part of a tough guy. "Look, you've had your fun, Oz, now get this freak off me."

"I don't think he wants to get off you, Mario," Oswald said, sounding just like the owner of an unruly dog, who's 'just playing' when he bites people. "Do you, Edward?"

"Mm-mm." Edward shook his head, still tickling Falcone’s throat with the razor-edge of his blade.

"You're not gonna get away with this," Falcone was practically sobbing with humiliation and fear. "My father --"

"Is dead," Oswald stated unsympatheticly. "As you will soon be unless you show me, my fiancé, and my club the proper respect. An apology for insulting me would be a nice start."

"W-what?" The idiot had forgotten what he'd even said to offend Oswald. Edward pressed his knife a little deeper into Falcone’s neck and a thin stream of blood trickled down the front of the gangster's shirt.

"Fuck, please -- I'm sorryI'msorryI'msorry --"

"Do you even know what you're saying sorry for?" Oswald asked. "For calling me 'fat' or disrespecting the Lounge?"

"For both -- for everything -- I don't fucking remember!"

"Let me give you a little reminder," Edward purred, ripping open Falcone’s shirt, revealing his flawless, chiseled gym-gotten physique. Ed sneered at the ripped pecs and washboard abs. They, like Falcone’s whole existence, just spoke to the latter's privileged, spoiled lifestyle. Not like Oswald, who'd had to fight for everything he had. Edward much preferred his pretty bird's soft, pillowy body to this too-perfect one.

Edward held his hand back to Oswald, who placed the roll of duct tape in it. When Falcone saw this exchange he commenced to blubbering inelegantly and the noise was drawing unwanted stares. Edward tore off a piece of duct tape and pressed it over Falcone’s snivelling mouth. The rubberneckers blushed and looked away, not wanting to get an eyeful if whatever depravity was about to occur.

Thus, they missed entirely the giant question mark Edward carved into Falcone’s chest.

"Riddle me this:" Edward said as he casually buttoned up the shuddering Falcone’s shirt for him, causing red to bloom through the white. "What happens when you fuck with the Penguin?"

Falcone gave a pathetic bleat through his duct tape gag.

"Answer: you sleep with the fishes. Just be grateful my bird is merciful and decided to let you off with a warning. Because if it were up to me..." Edward leaned in close to Falcone’s ear --

"I would've gone a lot lower with this knife."


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as Mario Falcone was escorted by the Penguin's own goons, bleeding and blubbering, from the Iceberg Lounge, Edward vaulted right back over the table --

"Ed, no, you're all full of --"

\-- and into Oswald's lap again.

"...blood." Oswald finished, looking down at his ruined suit.

"Blood?" Edward giggled, on a major bloodlust high. "What are you talking about, blood? This, sir, was a ketchup bottle malfunction."

"A ketchup bottle malfunction," Oswald repeated dully.

"Yeah, you should really get those ketchup bottles fixed, babe," Edward went on breezily. "I mean I'm not telling you how to run your business, or anything, but -- _fuck_!" He burst into maniacal laughter as the joy of torturing Falcone came rushing back. "Ozzie, did you _see_ the look on his _face_ when I cut him?"

"Yes, Edward, I was there."

Try as he might, Oswald couldn't muster up any enthusiasm for Falcone’s torture and humiliation even though it was well-deserved. After all, he'd just witnessed his Ed astride another man's lap, up close and personal with aforementioned man's smut-book-cover-worthy chest. The fact that Edward had been mutilating that same chest was entirely besides the point.

"Oswald?" Edward queried, tilting his head. "Are you mad at me about something?"

Oswald shook himself out of his daze. "No! No, of course not, don't mind me."

Edward frowned a little, obviously still trying to figure out what he did wrong.

"It's just..." Oswald began, and Ed looked up hopefully, "...watching you with Falcone -- I don't know..."

Edward smiled knowingly. "You were jealous."

"I...suppose I was. He is very handsome. And fit. And I'm...not."

"Oz, don't you get it? I found him revolting." Edward shuddered elaborately as though to demonstrate just how revolted he was. "Everything about him was abhorrent to me. Wanna know why? Because he wasn't you."

Oswald blinked back tears and tried to look away but Edward caught his face between his hands.

"I _love_ the way you look, Oswald. I could show you just how much..." he slid his hands down the older man's chest.

"Ed, we aren't exactly alone."

"So what?" Edward demanded. "No one's looking at us. They're all watching some half-naked idiot covered in body glitter tearing it up on the dance floor."

Oswald looked where Ed indicated and sure enough there was Bruce Wayne break-dancing in the middle of a crowd of onlookers, shirtless, with a tie around his head, out-sparkling the disco ball.

"Well, that's just...disturbing," Oswald finally said. "Let's go to my office."

Edward nodded, pulling Oswald along with alacrity, leading him to the elevator. As soon as they stepped in, their mouths crashed together, and by the time they stepped out, Edward had not only managed to liberate himself from his own blazer and shirt but Oswald from his coat and waistcoat as well.

Oswald gave a sardonic cluck at his paramour's shirtless state only to grunt as Edward leapt into his arms, wrapping his long legs around the older man's thick waist and burying his face in his neck.

"Take it easy, Eddie," Oswald teased as he carried him to the desk. "I'm not going anywhere."

Edward growled and nipped at Oswald's ear in answer.

_He's every bit as insatiable as I am_ , Oswald thought, amused as Ed's nimble fingers flew over his buttons, speedily but carefully unfastening them -- a stark contrast to the disrespectful way he'd destroyed Falcone’s shirt.

_We really_ are _meant for each other_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone who left kudos and encouraging comments on this series for a version of riddlebird that we know almost nothing about. <3


End file.
